


The Telling

by BandanaBlue



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: Character Death, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 16:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8452768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BandanaBlue/pseuds/BandanaBlue
Summary: A sequel to Forever.Heyes decides it is time to deliver the news.





	

The journey to Denver took a lot longer than I had figured it would. In truth I was probably taking it slow, putting off the moment I was dreading the most. 

Telling Clementine. 

There was also some other business I needed to attend to first. 

My mind was in a kinda daze after the burial at Devil's Hole but I rode back to Brokenvale all the same. I stood in the main street for what seemed an eternity ignoring the curious looks from passers-by while I stared at the very spot where he had fallen. Grief and anger threatened to overwhelm me again and on the day of the hanging it took every bit of self-control I could muster not to climb those gallows and put the rope round the neck of that murdering cowpoke myself. 

The murdering cowpoke who shot Kid Curry.

While I watched him swing I made a decision. First, I would take the road to Porterville to see Lom Trevors, then go on to Denver. I needed to tell him about the Kid and my thoughts about the amnesty.

When I told Lom what had happened he was shocked but I can't say he was surprised. 

Everyone who knew Kid had suspected he wouldn't reach old age. When you're a gunman some young would-be shootist is always gonna be tempted to try their luck. Even more so when you've already proved to everyone in a crowded saloon that they can't out-draw you. I guess, deep down, he knew his end would probably come with a sly bullet rather than the dubious glory of a gunfight. 

It was a sly bullet, alright. Aimed from the shadows straight into his heart, dropping Jed at my feet and giving us merely seconds to say goodbye.

Lom agreed that I might find it more difficult trying for the amnesty on my own but that's what I told him I had decided to do. Jed would not have wanted me to give up now, not after all the effort we'd put in together. So, I'll keep on trying to go straight. For now, anyways. 

It was a cloudy afternoon a week later when I eventually rode down the street toward Clem's cottage on the outskirts of Denver. My chest was feeling so tight I could barely breathe and by the time I slid out of the saddle my heart was racing. Frowning I noticed how my once steady hands shook as I tied my sorrel to the white painted fence. 

Now that I was there I didn't know if I could do it. Say it again, re-live it all again - even for Clem. This would not be one of those visits where the three of us would be holding our bellies as we laughed ourselves stupid about some little thing. I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and walked up the porch steps.

She answered my light knock, flinging the door wide with a beaming smile and a squeal of excitement before wrapping her arms around my neck. Then I felt her freeze as she looked over my shoulder and saw a single horse.

Stepping backwards her hands went to her mouth, her brown eyes wide with horror. It was then I realized that I didn't have to say the words - she saw it all in my face. 

My voice shook something awful as eventually I found the strength to relate the whole story. Me, the former leader of one of the most formidable bunch of outlaws the West has ever seen, broken by a single bullet. 

I held her, rocking gently as she and I wept together, both of us lost in our grief for a man we loved with all our hearts. Then, for the rest of the evening we sat and talked - about him. 

It was past midnight when, emotionally exhausted, we eventually fell into bed. Clem's big brass bed. I couldn't help but recall past times when the Kid and I had visited. We'd both had a lot of fun with Clem in that bed. But that was before Jed and I finally realized that what we really wanted in bed was each other. 

Despite what had happened between us back then, I knew that if I shared a bed with Clem that night she would expect nothing from me. She could not have failed to notice how close Jed and I had become; we were always relaxed, felt we could be ourselves around her, but not enough to make her uncomfortable - I hope.

I lay awake for most of the night wishing I could still see him lying there on the other side of Clem, one arm slung above his head, soft blond curls framing his face, breathing slow and steady. My yearning for him hurt so much I had to stop myself from groaning out loud. 

At some point Clem must have sensed my pain because she turned over to face me. Saying nothing she looked deep into my eyes and gently stroked my cheek. I closed my eyes at last, surrendering to the intimate touch, and slept. 

Not long after dawn we ate breakfast. Yes, she managed to persuade me to eat something. Clem is renowned for her persistence and I knew from past experience that it would just be easier to give in. From the moment I'd arrived she had made no secret of the fact that she was worried about me having noticed the dark circles under my eyes and the fact that my clothes hung loosely. Sleep and food were things I didn't hanker over these days. 

Clem then asked me not to leave until she had run an errand in town. There being nowhere in particular I needed to be I agreed and passed the time tending to my mare and saddling her up while I waited.

When she returned she sat me down on the sofa and, reaching into her purse, pulled out an envelope which she handed to me. Inside was a photograph of the three of us - the only remaining photograph. I had set fire to the other one on the stagecoach to Silver Springs. We had posed for the picture to celebrate our first successful bank job and at the time, as I recall, we were feeling real proud of ourselves. 

My breath caught in my throat as I saw the Kid looking back at me for the first time in weeks. He looked so full of life. I didn't take my eyes from his face until my vision blurred and I quickly wiped the back of my hand across my eyes.

"Keep it, Heyes," whispered Clem.

I shook my head, replaced the photograph in the envelope and handed it back to her.

"No," I croaked.

"Yes. You should have it," she urged, holding it out to me once more.

I hugged her, kissed her cheek, then got to my feet and reached for my hat which hung on the hook behind the door. Raking my hair back from my face I set it low over my eyes and pulled on my gloves, all the while desperately trying to find a smile for her.

"I can't take it with me. You keep it. Keep him safe," I said.

"But. . .Heyes."

I shook my head again. 

Bidding her farewell I opened the door and strode quickly down the path. 

She ran after me but by the time she reached the gate I was already on my horse and turning her in the street. Urging the unfortunate animal into a reckless gallop I heard myself whisper. 

"Keep him safe, Clem. Lord knows, I couldn't."


End file.
